The Only Way Novels & Stories

Khailah P.O.V I found myself getting smashed into the wall! Crap, not good! I can’t die yet, it’s my first assignment! I sort of knew what to expect and didn’t know what to expect at the same time! My job was simply to infiltrate the pack, discreetly set up my ‘fingerprints’ everywhere, and get the hell out as fast as humanly possible! Simple. Oh, and about these ‘fingerprints’, they are nearly invisible copies of my skin. And they have a nano-sized camera and microphone attached to them. Just think of it as the tips of your fingers shedding their skin and you can leave it anywhere and everywhere, undetected. Well, hopefully, they are undetected. You just never really know with wolves and th

From here, the only way is up. His thoughts turned to Jackson, a man he considered his best friend and the most suave guy he knew. Unlike most men who would use their wealth or their family's wealth to woo a woman, he relied on his wits and charm. Morgan struggled to remember if there was ever a time Jackson failed in his pursuit of anyone. He was a little envious of his friend and sometimes wished he had even a tenth of what Jackson had.

“Your core thoughts, it’s the only way out.” I pause for a second then inhale a breath. “Well, how do I do that?”

I state factually. “Well, until we figure out another way…this is the best option” He shrugs and I groan, almost banging my head against my table. “I just want her out of my life”

Electric, was a word I hadn't understood, till I felt Your touch. ●♡♡♡● Arya's P.O.V. In the blink of an eye, we were outside of the hall and in the parking lot; probably heading towards his car. "Where are you taking me?" No reply. Just great. I tried to get my hand free, but Mr. Wali only tightened his hold. He opened the passenger door and almost threw me inside and went towards driving seat; put the child lock on.

Hello readers! How are you all Dear Readers, Thank you for joining me on this journey through Separate Ways: Bound to Be One. This story was born from a fascination with duality — the constant tug between fate and choice, light and shadow, loyalty and betrayal. In crafting the lives of Reese Taylor and James Anderson, I wanted to explore how two people from seemingly different worlds can find themselves bound by something far deeper than coincidence.

After dinner, my biological Dad and I took a walk along the shore as our house was close to the beach. I'm glad to get to know you my daughter, and I believe my siblings will be excited to meet with you,as I've finally connected with you. My only child to succeed me .They've heard of you though and seen some pictures of you,the ones I snapped when when accidentally met earlier, Mr Dadson said. Only child???! I asked. Yes ,my daughter, after the disappearing of your mom,I couldn't get intimate with any other woman, I channelled all energies into building my companies , that are now spread across the globe.

Hurt both of us. I knew she’d find the letter by now. I could picture it—her fingers unfolding the paper, her eyes scanning every word, trying to make sense of what I’d written. I had poured out just enough emotion to keep from overwhelming her. I’d told her I needed space to figure things out. That she was special. That she wasn’t alone. That I cared. But I hadn’t told her everything. I hadn’t told her the truth. Because how do you explain that you’re a wolf shifter destined to love one woman for the rest of your life?

"You — please — I belong to you—" "And will you let anyone else touch you?" "No." She shook her head desperately. "No, Damien. Never. I won't — I promise — please—" "Who," he said softly, his lips brushing her jaw, "is the only one who gets to have you?" "You." The word came out like a prayer. "Only you. You and no one else — Damien—" The vibrator roared back to life. His fingers began to move. Hard. Deep. Relentless. His pace climbed and she stopped forming words entirely — there was nothing left but sensation and his name and the headboard rattling above her and the coil inside her pulling so tight she couldn't breathe—

My daughter, Lily, was hit and dragged for two whole miles by a drunk driver. I rushed her blood-drenched body into the emergency room. While the doctors saved her, I collapsed onto the floor in the hallway. With the last ounce of strength left in my body, I sent a text to my husband, Howard. [Lily is in critical condition. Get to the hospital now!] A few seconds later, my phone chimed with a reply. [Stay safe. I’ll be over as soon as I wrap things up here.]